Stress And Fasting

Ever have a lot of stuff hit you at once?

Of course you do. It's called life. I've got about eight projects going on right now that I need to finish yesterday.

One of the ones I'm really anticipating is that I've been asked to preach next month. I haven't preached in almost a year. I miss preaching. It's at the church Cynthia and I used to go to when we first go married.

I made amends with the pastor and I'm planning on going there and giving my testimony on my fall. I'm not giving gory details, but I do plan on telling them about how despite our sin, Christ does forgive and cover all of our sins. I'm nervous, yet excited.

It's one thing to be transparent on a blog, but it's another thing to open your life, soul and heart in front of a congregation. Most of the people there didn't know I fell. I have the feeling they'll be understanding.

I also know that hearing the story of forgiveness from Scripture might help some of them as well. But then again, they might light torches and chase me out of there. Who knows? No, of course they won't. They're great people and will be very supportive.

I've just been under a huge amount of stress lately at my work and with other projects. So, I decided to fast. Which isn't easy with a lifelong health condition I have. However, fasting is extremely important.

I read a book by John Piper on the subject once and I'm loosely paraphrasing his definition here. He said that fasting gets our focus off the gifts and puts our mind on the giver of the gifts. I enjoy the process of fasting.

As consumeristic (is that a word?) Americans, we're so tied down on eating and gluttony. We have drive-thrus so we don't have to get out of the car. We go to the grocery store and the junk food is stacked on the end of the aisle. The candy is right next to the register. The restaurants have buffets for us so we can keep shoveling it in. And those things aren't bad, trust me. I love the convenience.

But once in a while, I have to remind myself that the gift of food is just that - a gift. I have to concentrate on the giver of those things. And when I do, I break free of those bonds and pray for a few days and thank Him. After the initial hunger goes away (and it takes a while), it's easier to focus on Him and what He wants me to do.

Check out Piper's book, "A Hunger For God," if you can. It's available on Kindle as well. (I don't get a kickback either.) Usually you can buy it from his website for cheaper. If you can't afford it, you can call them and work something out with them.

So if you're feeling stressed, realize that it may be because you're too focused on the world. Take time to focus on the Giver of all that is good.

What I Miss About Pastoring: Pastoral Care

I never, ever thought I'd say this. Not in a million years. But after my fall, I found myself missing pastoral care.

If I could travel back in time to two years ago and visit myself and say, "Hey, Arthur, you're going to miss visiting shut-ins, sick people, making phone calls, chasing down absent members, and all that good stuff," the Arthur of two years ago would have laughed until his spleen busted. 

I don't know if it's just limited to Southern Baptist ministers, but most of us aren't very fond of pastoral care. Maybe I should rephrase that. We prefer preaching over pastoral care.

You've probably heard it said that a minister is either really good at preaching or visiting. Even the guys I know that excel at visiting would rather be preaching.

Prepare yourself for a reality check. I heard a pastor refer to Wednesday night prayer meeting as "organ recital." I said, "what do you mean?"

He said, just listen to the prayer requests. "Pray for Uncle Bob's liver. Pray for Tom's kidney. Pray for Joe Bob's lung problem. Pray for Sue Ellen's eyes." He said, "Organ recital. No prayers for the lost. Just their organs."

That's the kind of stuff that makes pastors cynical. But he was right.

At first, it's not so bad when you're a young pastor. You want to get out there and visit, visit, visit. But then you realize that everyone in the church wants you to see their relatives, shut-ins, long lost members and your sermon preparation time is dwindling.

Then comes the dreaded moment - one of your church members was in the hospital and you didn't go see them. However, no one told you. But it's still your fault. You feel awful. You apologize profusely. If you're lucky, they live. If you're not, you carry a burden for a long time. If they do live, you might be constantly ribbed about it by them.

This, despite the fact, that you pray for your people all the time. You tell them to call you when people get sick. Friends, the job of a pastor in the realm of pastoral care is difficult. Pastors are not omnipresent or omniscient. I know that's a shock.

Something else, I don't know why it's been called "pastoral care." The care of the members of the church should not be limited to the pastor. Yes, he should visit the shut-ins, the ill and infirm. However, it is the job of the entire congregation to minister to the entire body of believers. However, this job in the American church has fallen squarely upon the pastor in most congregations. It shouldn't be that way. Anyway, on to the blog . . .

Today, I visited my lovely wife at work. I had the day off and had lunch with her. While I was there, I ran into Marlee and Rich, a couple I had been terribly judgmental of while at Angel Falls but had reconciled with before I left.

I hadn't had any serious contact with them since my fall, but saw them in the parking lot and I caught them somewhat off guard. I spoke to them and wanted to reach out to them. Rich's dad had been ill when I had left Angel Falls and I still loved this couple and hoped they would respond to me.

At worst, they could ignore me and walk away. That would be fine. I had hurt them. At best, they could speak to me. I would receive that as God's grace. I am at a place now where any kind of reception or kindness from the people at Angel Falls is God's grace. I long for reconciliation.

Rich came right over to me and smiled and shook my hand like we were old friends. He told me that his father was in poor health and about to die. I listened as he recounted the past week of his father's illness and told him I would be praying for him. The fact that he mentioned his father let me know that on some level he still trusted me. He connected with me.

It immediately hit me how much I missed pastoral care.

When I was a pastor, I would whine about the house visits, the calls, and the "organ recitals." But now, I found myself longing for those moments. I realized that those moments were the moments Christ gives us as pastors. Those are the moments we are given to love people where they are, in their hurt, in their most vulnerable times.

We perceive that we are being put out of our way because we have more important things to do. We have sermons to prepare. We have errands to run. We have lives to live.

For shut-ins, they have walls to stare at. For the ill, they have stomachs churning and an uncertain future. For the depressed and anxious, they have a mind aswirl of impatience and horrible thoughts.

As pastors, we think of our time. Our inconvenience. I wish I had seen it then. God forgive me. I could have gone home, kissed my children, made room in my schedule somewhere. God would have provided me those moments to prepare for my sermon. For what is more important in this life than people? He will provide.

The moments that stand out to me when I think of my pastorate are not of great sermons I preached. They are of lives God allowed me to touch. They are of the moments I spent beside people who were dying. They are of the times when I was praying alongside the ill or those who needed Christ.

Was it a sermon? No, but it was the Word. It was Christ Himself, active within me, living inside me, working through me. Yes, the sermons were alive and active, penetrating. Not because of me, but because of Him.

What I really wish I had done more is gone out, like my current pastor Brad. He just goes out in the expectation that people will be saved. Armed with the gospel of Christ and loves people like they are.

I miss preaching funerals. I miss being there for people who hurt after a loved one dies, hearing the stories of their departed loved one and then sharing those stories in a way that honors the one who passed.

I miss going to visit Mr. and Mrs. McGillicutty who used to go to Angel Falls 20 years ago but now live in an old trailer with no one to talk to. I visited them twice a month. No one else would. They have no children or family. They loved to see me coming. I had the church build them a ramp so they could get into their trailer easier. I loved them even though they never heard me preach. They were precious to the Lord so they were precious to me.

I miss seeing Mrs. Law. She came for about two years of my pastorate until she couldn't drive anymore. Frankly, she shouldn't have been driving those two years. She could talk your ear off. She would call me whenever she wanted. When you visited her, you better have at least two hours to spend, or an escape route, because she would go on for a long time. She had three children who ignored her and were just waiting for her to die to get her inheritance. I have 20 stories about her to tell. She's still alive and I love her. She's 90. Hope she outlives her kids.

I miss seeing people. I know now what it means to love as Christ loved. I missed an opportunity. Maybe one day I'll have that chance again.

 

If you're a pastor and you're reading this - don't visit cheaply. Listen to your people. Visit the elderly like they're your parents or grandparents. Visit them like it's the last time you'll see them.

Church members, listen. Call your pastor when you're in the hospital. Don't overwhelm him with stupid stuff. If you have a toenail surgery, don't bother him. If he heads off to Disney World with his family, leave him alone. The man needs space.

The church is the body of Christ. Minister to one another. Love one another. You all belong to each other. Act like it.

What I Miss About Pastoring: Preaching

Thought I'd write a few posts about what I miss most (and least) about pastoring. I'm not sure who it'll help or if it will give insight to congregations about what their pastor goes through.

A quick disclaimer - don't take me to say that I regret my current life. If you're a regular reader, you know I'm repentant of my sin. But I can tell you that God does love me and has blessed me with good things. Love my wife, love my little section of the world.

I do miss preaching. In fact, when I talk to active pastors, that's one of their first questions - "I bet you miss preaching, huh?" I just want to say, "Would you miss oxygen if someone held you under water for two minutes?"

There is just something about spending that time in the Word the week before (not the night before), opening it up in preparation for an expository message, digging for hermeneutical treasure, looking for the author's intended meaning, then relating that to your church.

Of course, you'll occasionally mess it up. But the joy that comes from preaching that Word is impossible to relate to someone who hasn't been called to to it. And you know you'll never get them to love that passage as you've loved that passage during the week. You'll never get them to see every beautiful jot and tittle of it, but your heart explodes with passion about God's Word during your time behind that pulpit.

And the joy you feel when you see the face of a church member (hopefully members) in the crowd when then have that look of discovery moment (or the "oh, now I get it" look) while you're preaching. Because during the week, you understood something beautiful about the passage and now you were able to relate it to them.

And even more beautiful is when God moves upon a person by His Word and convicts them, leading them in His way. Not because of you, but because of Him.

Those moments are irreplaceable.

I've preached since my fall and hope to supply again in the future. To tell the story of the grace He has shown me and His forgiveness. It brings me joy. I would love to supply every Sunday if God sees fit to let me use the gifts He gave me.

To church members, I would say remember that your pastor has been spending hours preparing his sermon. He has prayed over it, studied it, gotten frustrated over it, and sometimes cried over it. You may walk out of the service saying, "Well, I didn't get anything out of that," but what exactly did you put into it? Pray for your pastor during the week as he prepares. Pray for your own heart to be touched by God's Word.

To pastors, I pray you will fight temptation, stay strong in the Word, and do not neglect your own private devotional time as I did. Don't let the distractions of meetings, committees, and complaints push you away from the most important thing you do.

To everyone else, find a pastor who preaches the Word. Without fail. A man who would die for his convictions. Who knows what he stands for. Who understands the righteousness of Christ and lives it out. But remember he is a human.

The Universalists And Brad

I'm about to head out to hear my preacher, Brad, preach at the local Unitarian Universalist Church.

I asked him, "How in the world did that happen?"

He said, "Every year they ask people from different faiths to come and preach. The usual Baptist couldn't make it so they asked me."

I said, "Do they have any idea what they're in for?"

He said, "No, I don't think so. I'm preaching on 'What Christmas means to Christians' and the need for a Savior."

He won't be mean, but he'll tell the truth. Should be interesting. What's really interesting is that Brad's house flooded because of a broken pipe this week. He's going to show up with a week's growth of facial hair on his face and wearing the same cargo pants for three days. He'll probably remind me of a shepherd from the nativity.

Pray for him, please.

(I'm wearing a suit to upstage him . . . :-)

Everything Else Follows Preaching

Cynthia and I visited the church of a pastor friend of mine today. We've been there before.

Angel Falls is a nice town. I would leave here, but Angelica and the kids are still here. I've told you before and I'll tell you again - Angelica and I have a great relationship after the divorce. We get along better now than before, believe it or not.

But I only get to see them every other weekend and at Angelica's whim. Which is pretty darn often, thanks to a great post-divorce relationship with her. Cynthia has been wonderful in this whole process. She and Angelica get along well, considering everything. I love her so much. She's such a trooper. I was talking to her tonight about what she would do if something happened to me. If I was her and something happened to me, I'd find some rich millionaire and bury me in lime in the backyard. But she said she'd cherish my memory forever. What a sweetie.

Anyhow, we went to a pastor friend's church today - his name is Brad. He said from the pulpit today these very words, "God's grace and love are enough to cover any cover any of our sins. I dare say I'm the biggest sinner here." I know, I swear he saw me come in. I forgot to challenge him after service. Before his conversion, he was a borderline adulterer (didn't cross the line), an alcoholic, a gambler, could cuss the wallpaper off the wall, and was a mean, mean man. Guess what? I could do all those things while I was pastor.

I was the biggest jackass in the room today. But I wouldn't dare challenge a pastor in his own church. To his face. But I'll call him later this week.

The point of this blog is to let you know one thing - he can preach the wallpaper off a wall. The music was straight out of the Baptist hymnal that was the unupdated version. That's okay. The congregation wasn't too young. I'd say they were around an average age of 55. That's okay too. You know what I've noticed the last two visits? They've been baptizing the last two times. That tells me they have a pastor who is very serious about evangelism.

And his sermon was very serious about sovereignty. Cynthia told me after the sermon that not once did I roll my eyes or mutter under my breath. She's right. Because in this county, Brad is the pastor most likely to preach the word of God with humility. He humbles himself in the pulpit and even does so to the point of tears.

I wish I had his humility when I preached. We're taking the kids there next week.

Do I care about the slightly outdated music? Sure. But the music always follows preaching. And I'll always follow strong, convicted preaching first that follows the Word of God.

When To Confront From The Pulpit

Just a disclaimer - I've done what I'm about to complain about. And I was wrong to do it. In fact, it grieves me that I did it. I learned from it when I did it and hope that others won't make the same mistake.

So what exactly am I going on about?

In the past two weeks, I've heard about pastors who have heard there was adultery occurring in their church; instead of dealing with it in biblical fashion, or talking to those involved, they addressed the individuals from the pulpit. Once, it was done directly, and once it was done in a roundabout way so that everyone in the congregation knew who the pastor was talking about, but he didn't mention any names.

Before I start making points, I'll tell you about the 50 or so times I did it. I was arrogant. I thought I had the black and white truth and biblical authority to lash out against people. I thought the pulpit was my right to say what I wanted, when I wanted. Uh uh. Doesn't work that way.

I'd hear about someone living together, having an argument with another church member, being stupid inside a committee meeting, or whatever, and I'd make a whole sermon point about it. I wouldn't mention a name, of course, but I'd make sure they'd hear my point.

On one occasion, after the music director left after the deacon controversy, I preached a whole sermon out of anger. It was basically a "don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you" sermon. It wasn't right and it wasn't well received.

You know why it wasn't right? First, because I was angry. Secondly, because if I had a problem, I needed to deal with it in private with the people I had a problem with. I used a bully pulpit to make a point to people and stirred the pot. I was airing dirty laundry that was personal business and I had no right to do it.

Does the pastor have the right to preach on adultery, anger, gambling, etc.? Absolutely. But in the course of normal preaching. Not when we're using another person to make a point. Not when we're showering down the Word of God on someone to lash out on them instead of going to them first.

It's the misappropriation of the pastoral office, plain and simple. It's the abuse of the Word and the pulpit. And it does harm to the congregation and those who have sinned. It doesn't make the situation better, it makes it much worse.

You know what to confront from the pulpit? The enemy. Other church members are not our enemy. If a church member sins, we seek them out and restore them, plain and simple. If they don't want restoration, we grieve the loss and pray for them wholeheartedly. We tell the church to pray for them.

But we never, ever air their dirty laundry. Because we might just find ourselves in their position one day. God help us all when we do.

Seminary, Being Judgmental, Self-Righteousness, and Other Thoughts, Part 2

Long before seminary, the seeds of self-righteousness had been sown.

Now, I have really got to be careful with this next part of my story because it will definitely offend some people. I don't mean for it to. Just make sure you read it through before you react, please.

When I was about 13, I ran across a stash of cassette tapes my parents had. They listened to a lot of sermons. Charles Stanley, Chuck Swindoll, and our own pastor at the time. But the pastor who caught my attention at the time was John MacArthur.

I had never heard anything like his preaching in my entire life. I had never experienced expository preaching. I fell in love with it. The Bible came alive for me and I soaked it all in.

I don't know how familiar you are with MacArthur's preaching. It's very good. At the same time, you have to know that it's also very black and white. All the answers for all of life are to be found in the Word of God. Don't hear me saying I disagree, but I went to an extreme.

I took MacArthur's style, black and white belief system, and tough stance on sin and made it my own. I went even further with it as seminary came along. When I got past seminary and got my own church, the hard-line black and white view of life came to bear. And it infiltrated the way I did everything - especially the way I viewed sin in the congregation.

After a seminary education where church discipline was king, I was ready to wipe out sin in the church. I think my heart was in the right place, but my practice and attitude was not.

I remember the first couple of times I found out church members were sinning. Publicly. I didn't handle it well. Or with compassion. I came down hard and quickly on them. Were they sinning? Yes. Was it wrong in accordance to the black and white of Scripture? Yes.

But I was wrong. I lacked compassion, love and understanding. I approached them with the attitude of, "You need to stop now or we're bringing this in front of the church in [X] amount of days."

I gave no time for God to do His work in their hearts. I gave no compassion to their circumstance. I didn't care about their situation. None. No Christlikeness at all.

All I knew is that I saw sin. And I was the heat-seeking missile that wanted it out of the church.

What I never considered was that I was dealing with people. I knew the old saying, "Hate the sin, love the sinner." But I had trouble separating the two. In my eyes, if the sinner couldn't separate from the sin, they needed to get serious help or be asked to leave until they could.

Of course, I was an idiot. That's not how discipline works. That's not how the church works. That's not how forgiveness works. That's not how we're supposed to act at all. And I learned the hard way.

How could I sit through church as a youth, seminary as an adult, and pastor for almost ten years and miss it?

Worse, I taught the people at Angel Falls Baptist to judge harshly and without love or compassion. And they did that very thing to me when I fell.

Well, I did. Is it possible thousands of Christians are missing the same thing now? That they're learning that sin is a horrible thing (which is true) but at the same time they're missing out on how to show compassion?

I forgot that I was a sinner like those in the church were. I forgot that I had been saved by grace and that I wasn't any better than anyone else. That is the heart of self-righteousness. I thought my education, my position, and my ability to judge made me better.

Didn't. It just made me more smug. And I paid for it all.